


Fleeting

by timehopper



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Public Sex, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22964194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: They may be in the middle of a war council, but Hilda can hardly care. Not when she's so bored, and Marianne is right there...
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 14
Kudos: 123





	Fleeting

**Author's Note:**

> Happy femslash february y'all I love girls and Hilda being kind of a shit disturber ♥

Hilda knows the importance of war councils. She’s had it drilled into her from a young age how important it is to plan your strategy before going into battle - Holst would spend hours upon hours lecturing her about how the Almyrans strategized, _just in case_ something were to happen to him and she, Goddess forbid, had to take up his mantle. Nothing has happened to him so far, though, and Hilda doubts anything ever will. Still, she had paid reluctant attention to all his lectures, and thus knew how important these matters were.

But Holst’s lectures weren’t all bad. At least he’d had the decency to cater to her interests and try to make them interesting. The same can _not_ be said for Professor Byleth.

Up at the front of the room, the professor drones on and on about flanks and front lines and surprise strategies and _whatever else_. Hilda can’t be bothered to care, and she lets a breath out through her nose, stretching her hands in front of her on the table as she leans back in her seat. Everyone else seems to be enthralled with the strategy meeting (or at least pretending to be; Raphael’s glassy-eyed stare could not be any more obviously bored, but at least he’s looking in the right direction). 

Even Marianne is paying attention, hastily writing notes in a book, albeit it with a shaking hand. 

_Oh?_

Hilda leans forward, trying to catch a glimpse of Marianne's notes. They're standard fare, if a little bit behind where Byleth is in their lecture, and that in itself is a little bit odd. Marianne is usually so on top of this sort of thing, and her hand hasn't shaken this much taking notes since they were both students here five years ago. 

Something is distracting her. And judging by the light pink flush on her cheeks, Hilda has a feeling she knows what it is. 

She sidles up to Marianne, resting her chin on her hand and tilting her head coyly upward. "Really, Marianne? A _war council_?" 

"H-Hilda…"

She reaches for Marianne's hand and places her own over it. Marianne's grip on her quill loosens, and Hilda easily plucks it from her fingers to set it aside. "Looks like it’s your lucky day, though!" she whispers, leaning up to press her lips to Marianne's ear. "I'm bored."

A shiver runs through Marianne, but she doesn’t protest. Hilda can see it in the waver of her lip, though, and she tilts her head to the side, letting her lower lip jut out in a tiny pout.

Sure enough: “We shouldn’t,” Marianne mumbles, voice tiny and airy. The hesitation in it is palpable. “Someone might see…” 

“Nonsense.” Hilda traces a line over the back of Marianne’s hand with one finger, delighting in the little shudder that earns. “Nobody’s paying attention to us! They’re completely enraptured in the Professor’s lecture.” 

Marianne glances around the room. Her lips twitch - she doesn’t believe Hilda in the slightest, but Hilda knows that look. She’s considering it. All it’ll take is one last little push…

She leans against Marianne’s arm and tilts her head to look up into her girlfriend’s face, batting her lashes and smiling sweetly up at her. “Please?” 

And that’s it. Marianne closes her eyes and turns her head from Hilda. Other, lesser girls might have considered that a rejection, but Hilda knows better. This is Marianne’s version of roaring endorsement; Hilda can feel it in the tremble of her arm as Marianne draws a quiet, shuddering breath. 

“...Okay.” 

Hilda grins. “Good girl.” 

The effect of her words is immediate. Marianne tenses as Hilda snakes a hand under the table to rest on her lap, and she shifts in her seat to try and get closer. Hilda hums approvingly, trying to keep the hint of smugness she feels out of her voice, but even she knows she’s failed miserably at it. 

That’s okay. This is just one of the many things Marianne has confessed to admiring about her. 

“There we go,” Hilda breathes. She traces a finger along Marianne's thigh, over her skirt: up and down, up and down, three and four and five times. Marianne squirms, and when another shaking breath passes from between her lips, Hilda tugs her skirts up and slips a hand beneath them. 

She almost moans when she touches Marianne's skin; even through her gloves, Hilda can feel how intoxicatingly soft she is. If only she'd had the foresight to take her glove off right away, she laments, but in the end Hilda decides that it might be for the best that she hadn't. This way, she can tease Marianne properly and not drive her _too_ crazy.

Speaking of...

Quiet as Marianne is being, biting her lip to muffle any sound she might make, Hilda turns her gaze to Byleth to make sure they haven’t noticed anything. Sure enough, they’re still engrossed in their lecture, back turned to the room at large to draw diagrams on the board. Relieved, Hilda takes the opportunity to move inward and trace small circles along Marianne's inner thigh. 

She smiles to herself. Marianne's breath hitches and her finger curl against the table. She's doing a remarkable job of keeping still and quiet, and Hilda is torn between praising her for it and pushing her until she cracks. But with that tiny little whimper Marianne makes in the back of her throat, Hilda decides: she wants to do both. 

"You're being so good," she whispers. "If you can stay nice and quiet for me, I'll make it worth your while. How does that sound, darling?" 

Marianne shivers; her fingers clench tighter and make little scraping noises as they claw at the wood beneath them, but she doesn't make any noise herself, and Hilda decides that's worth _something_. She moves in and slides a finger between Marianne's legs: leather against cotton, smooth and tantalizing. 

Marianne claps a hand over her mouth and looks down. Across the table, Ignatz gives the two of them a look of concern, but when Hilda nudges Marianne and tells her to cough, he looks away, hopefully assuming she's just dealing with a cold. 

"That was a close one," Hilda says. "I was worried I'd have to stop for a second there."

"Please don't…" Marianne whispers. Hilda grins. 

"My, my!" She runs a second finger along Marianne’s undergarments, feeling warmth even through her glove. "You've gotten so bold, darling. You'd never have said that to me a few years ago.”

Marianne looks away, and though her mouth is still covered, Hilda can see in the curve of her cheek and the gentle narrowing of her eyes that she’s smiling fondly. She just wishes she could see it. 

“There’s my girl,” Hilda croons. She slips a finger beneath the cloth of Marianne’s panties and drags a finger up her slit. It moves easily - more so than expected.

“You must really want this,” Hilda says, quiet voice laced with awe. She pulls her hand back to check if her suspicion is correct, and – yes. Sure enough, the finger of her glove comes back wet. 

“Goodness…” Hilda’s lips twist into a smug smile, and she leans over to press her lips to Marianne’s neck, just above the collar of her blouse. “All that just from a little teasing?” 

Marianne’s hand falls from her mouth to rest on the table. “I’m sorry…” 

Hilda frowns. She plucks at the fingers of her wet glove with one hand and slips it off, placing it delicately on the table. “Don’t you dare apologize for that,” she says. “I happen to think it’s completely charming.” 

And she decides to demonstrate just how charming she finds it by going right back to what she was doing - gloveless this time - and slipping a finger between Marianne’s wet folds. She shivers, an uncontrollable wave of arousal going through her as she feels just how wet Marianne actually is. Now it’s Hilda’s turn to bite her lip and keep herself from making any noise; and by the goddess, it’s difficult. 

Marianne’s hips twitch, and Hilda feels her index finger slip inside - no resistance, just like that. Her face flushes, and she raises her free hand to cover her mouth, trying to hide it, but a frantic glance around the room to check if anyone is watching them reveals that there’s no need. Still, she’d hate to be _too_ obvious. 

Too much longer, though, and she will be. 

She turns her gaze to Marianne, whose eyelids have fluttered shut. Her shoulders hunch, and it’s clear as day that she’s trying to restrain herself from bucking into Hilda’s touch. Her hips are twitching, just the slightest bit, and Hilda wants nothing more than to drag her out of this stuffy room and into bed so she can fuck her girlfriend properly. But alas, she can’t, and so she must make do. 

“It’s okay, Marianne,” she soothes, though really, Hilda knows she’s trying to calm herself down more than she is Marianne. “I’ll finish you quickly. And then, when this meeting’s over… we can do things right.” 

Her words pull another whimper from Marianne, and she nods emphatically, momentarily forgetting herself. “Yes,” she breathes. “Please, Hilda…” 

And _oh_ , she can’t say no to _that_. 

Hilda slips another finger in. The angle is awkward, forcing her wrist to twist uncomfortably, but it’s worth it from the way Marianne’s breath hisses out from between her teeth. 

“Shh…” Hilda curls her fingers, and obediently, Marianne clamps her mouth shut, trying to keep the noise in. It works, and though it’s what she wanted, part of Hilda is disappointed. She’ll just have to work all the harder later to make up for this necessary silence later. 

She moves her hand, drawing her fingers out and pushing them back in in a steady rhythm. On every push, Hilda goes a little bit deeper, a little bit further; and she crooks her fingers, looking to stroke that spot inside Marianne that will make her come completely undone…

 _There_ , she thinks as Marianne’s shoulders draw up to her ears and she curls in on herself. _Just a little bit more_. One, two, three, four more strokes, four more flexes of her fingers… 

Marianne’s breath hitches. Hilda feels her gush all around her hand, soaking it and the fabric of her underclothes with every little spasm of her muscles. Hilda is careful to keep stroking her through it, pressing against the spot inside her that will draw out her orgasm and leave her even more breathless, until she feels the last tremors wrack Marianne’s body and subside. 

When she’s certain Marianne is finished, Hilda withdraws her fingers and slowly replaces Marianne’s skirts to where they should be. Marianne is doing remarkably well regaining her composure; her back has straightened again, and though her breathing is still heavy and her face still flushed, her eyes are alert and trained on Byleth, where they should be. 

Hilda grins to herself. Another successful mission, she thinks, and she leans back in her seat, satisfied. The rest of the meeting will go by like nothing, now that she’s found a way to entertain herself. 

And then she can do it all over again, in the comfort of her own room.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and think you might like to see more, have a chat, or would like to get to know me, please check out my twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r).
> 
> And if you would like to find out how to support me, I have a handy list of links right [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1355219789560471554). Please check it out! I wouldn't be able to do this without people like you supporting me. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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